Look at me I am black
Doesn't

How often we pull ourselves apart;
these broken bodies of pianos,
these
music box

Cavalier, my armor bears th’ sun,
Silver shot breastplate marked and bit,
My shield wears dents

In translucent blue earth,
weak evening starseed is scattered

by the lavender-gloved, invisible

Prayers by the birds,
Best of all by the Rooster,
Dew spread over the green splashed lawn,
Icy

The first true blue day of summer -

a simple song formed, whole
in my gulping heart.
Kept

I won’t be!
You can’t make me!
You got to catch me first!
I am that fast moving mad traveling

It’s always in September
When my guilt begins to rise again,
And I contemplate where my life has

It’s hard to admit a sickness,
When you don’t know if you believe
In the cure.
You see so many

A restless life
Spent in reckless dreaming
Music, money, fame
Tickets to happiness
Or to

The world has passed
With half closed eyes
And broken wings.
Meant to live, to fly.
Without a

Call my name
Whispering onto the wind.
Touching gently
The tips of my ear.
Patiently

There really is a thing called
Love.
God, oh how there is.
It's taken so long to see it.
It

Do I do
What I do
For the lamb?

Or do I
Look out
For love from man?

Do these

Guide my heart
And keep my
Steady hand.
Put praise
on my lips
And a song
In my heart.

I’m not sure
Of the choices I will make
And the reasons why
I’ll make them.
I’ve confused my own

And as I submerged
I thought one thing.
I am home
In death
For I have
Been waiting to die;
But

And I, I was so tired
And I came to here
So filled with fear.
And I, I was ashamed
Of everything

Life swims in Air,
On a rope of Cloud it's clinging,
Not much of Despair,
Blessings are

My morning meditation—a musing of how and why in an unspoken soliloquy:

Why do Saturdays now hold

If I tell you
that God loves
all of us equally,
that every race
is God's chosen race,
that all

In the stillness of the morning,
Under canopy of beech,
The little ones are sleeping
Safe, where

These Sacred Bush lands.

I walk these sacred bush lands
Beneath that warming sun
As thoughts be

I don't think I get it
I don't think I'll get it
I don't think I have
What it takes
To shake my

You're right,
I don't know what I'm doing
but I have to jump
before I can fly.
have

I've been looking for reasons
Not to believe
But you keep showing me things
Too amazing to

My pen
Is filled
With the ink
Of my sins
My paper
Is the priest
Ordained
To redeem me
And

God help me
For have a jealous heart.
It's so easy to long for
Something I don't have.
It's

God I see what I did
And what I haven't done
I said I won't And I did
And they ask "How

Oh Lord, my God, please heal me
Strengthen me so I am not destroyed.
Oh Lord, my God, forge me

What defines love?
Is it time
or the way two hearts
begin to rhyme?

What do you do
when life

Love
heals.

Love
steals.

Love
is
many
things,

but
love
always
is
of
God.

I don't want to write another self defeating poem.
I've written thousands. Probably enough to fill

There is a picture sitting high up on a shelf
a picture in the background of my future self.
Each

He said all the right words then you stayed the night,

thought you were making love then oops!

His journey from Gambia to Maryland, reciprocated mentally & physically,

Rural folk still think

You found me all over the place,
running the wrong way, you followed me, called me and told me to

Some drop in on life
to have it all ...

but I whose trials
arrive unbidden

hole and corner

You should have killed me when you had the chance
if you hate who I want to become so

Do you know what you do
the reason she is broke in two?
Words they sting like acid
running down

Never ending endings forcing me to never begin
Forever bending to the will of another sin
Face to

Your smile lights up my life;
I find it hard not to write in cliche'
but life is a cliche'

“I listen to my words but they fall far below,
I let my music take me where my heart wants to

Maintain the fire on the inside.
Don't stop praying;
keep on fighting.
Anxiousness is a

I try, I yearn to.
I Feel that deep need,
Flaming within me.

This body. Wanderers mind.
I

Summon the Sacred

not from our words
or from priestly incantations
but from our life,
in the

In this moment of confidence
I can stand on my own two feet.
Not because I have strength.
No,

Who knows what the future will bring.
Not you or I,
and sometimes we think that we can predict